


Herald

by managerie



Series: RINCH [27]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s04e05 Coda, Episode: s04e05 Prophets, Established Relationship, M/M, rinch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/managerie/pseuds/managerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Prophets, John takes stock of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Herald

~ * ~

 

The alarm rang softly in the darkness of John Riley’s apartment. It needn’t have bothered since John had been awake for almost an hour. The reason for this early rise was snoring contentedly beside him: Harold.

John’s body clock was always primed and ready. His days in the Army and the CIA had taught him to sleep when it was safe, but always wake when something needed to be done. Right now John needed to watch Harold sleep, watch his chest rise and fall with every breathe. John needed to hear Bear snuffling on the floor, the scratch of claws on carpet as he chased imaginary bunnies in his dreams. Right now, before going to work, or letting Harold slither back to the subway like a ghost, John needed to bask and wallow in the presence of John Reese’s family, his life, his purpose.

Lately they haven’t been connecting like they want, like they used to, like they need. These misconnections and the ache of desire, of longing, of need have brought Detective Riley to the attention of Dr. Iris Campbell. John would like to say it was his master plan all along, but the truth is that he had forgotten about Campbell until yesterday. Harold's absence, Lionel’s smugness, and the futility of a working man’s lot had driven out most practical suggestions from John’s brain leaving only the anger.

A few months ago John’s world had imploded, throwing them all off balance. John could have dealt with it if only Harold hadn’t been needed elsewhere. Carter had said many times: When Harold wasn’t around John wasn’t himself.

Right now John was as much himself as he could possibly be. Harold was warm and soft beside him. The events of yesterday with Root driving Harold to be less cautious. They had to be careful, no one should know about the Professor and the Policeman. It was for John’s sake of course. The Blue Wall was still a straight man’s club. John didn't care, he could fight off any loud mouths that were stupid enough to make a comment. The fights might have helped calm John down. The extra contact with Harold definitely would have settled John’s nerves.

John’s thought circled back to Root, Martine, and the hotel yesterday. John had promised that Root would never touch Finch again, but John hadn’t anticipated Root’s genius and tenacity. Instead of attacking Harold again, Root went for The Machine, clinging to her makeshift God, becoming the Analog Interface. Essentially, Root was the face, voice, and body of Harold's child. Like watching your offspring get married to a jerk. Now they are so entwined you can’t untangle them, they come as pair. Can't invite one to lunch without the other. No matter how much Root made Harold uncomfortable he had to interact with her. Harold forced himself to see her not as his torturer, but as Shaw’s friend, The Machine’s helpmate, and the only way to save the world.

It grated on John’s very last nerve to see Harold fight his revulsion, watching Harold compartmentalize what she had done. Harold's insistence on ‘Miss Groves’ was a huge red flag. It was a small and useless defense to separate the woman he worked with from the woman who drove Harold to a mental breakdown. And John couldn’t protect Finch from it. John had to let it happen, John had to let that woman tear, claw, and scratch at the hard-won walls Harold built after the abduction. Every technique they used to get Harold back from the brink had to be abandoned after they lost the library. Harold had no safety net now. John couldn’t be there every time, just in time for Harold. That knowledge was slowly killing John. How could he be the man he was supposed to be if he could’t fulfill his purpose? His one true calling- to love, cherish, and honor Harold Finch.

But those were thoughts for another time, when John was alone and angry. Right now, right now Harold was waking slowly as the dawn approached. Right now John was kissing the prominent nose, the uneven lips. John was nibbling the ears, smoothing a hand over the soft belly. Right now, for the next few hours John Reese had his purpose again.

 

~ * ~

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> No Beta. Con-Crit, suggestions, and proof reading welcomed.  
> Title is another word for a prophet and a play on words with Harold's first name. Double PUN!


End file.
